The dream starts in a loading bay of a newish building. There is a cab there that can be accessed by a door. A woman goes through a door and gets into the left hand side of the cab. I go through another door into a white sided room, I had thought that this would take me to the cab. Instead, I find myself in an old fashioned white lift which is a very tight fit for me. The lift is going down into a basement or sub-basement area. I know with certainty that this is the home of the security services MI5.

I exit the lift and am in the archives. It is secret. There are shelf upon shelf of books and records there. I come upon a man who is very familiar to me. He is startled to see me there. He is dressed as an “old school” English man. {Bletchley Park etc.}. He comments that he does not know why but he knows me. I say that I share the feeling. He shows me his hands. At the end of each finger is a tiny tool of some sort, like jeweller’s tools, they are all fanciful and wonderful. The implication is that he works meticulously. Although I recognise him, he is not someone that I currently know.

There is an explosion. We walk towards the window. Two space age helicopter crafts are coming towards us they are dropping bombs. He says that he will protect me but we must leave the building now.

We leave and are walking through a market square. There is debris of various craft stalls there. There are surveillance drones flying around. He points to two headlight like things lying on the floor. I pick them up, they will protect me.

I know that I must find Alveria or Almeria {it sounded like that}. One of the drones is now attacking me. I throw down one of the headlight things. It creates a massive puff of intense blue smoke. The scene changes.

There are now lots of large Arab style tents {Tuareg?} They are draped in cloths of a blue-indigo-blue hue.

I am wandering around the tents looking for something. J is somehow around. I am not concerned. I find a small white dog wrapped up in a blue cloth. I move on searching in a relaxed manner amongst the tents.

As I start to come to the entire dreamscape is filled with a deep royal blue, followed by indigo purple, then back to a blue-indigo-blue.

Dream ends.

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*During the Malaya insurgency my uncle, an officer in The Royal Corps of Signals, was recommended for his MBE by a General who was head of Military Intelligence {MI6?} and about whom little can be found. My uncle went onto to be a Colonel working out of Horse Guards Parade in London.

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